


he tarries, and I grieve.

by mellowly



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:37:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowly/pseuds/mellowly
Summary: some things are very hard to understand.





	he tarries, and I grieve.

loss, _noun_.

1\. the fact or sense of losing something or someone; the feeling of colours fading and time slowing as you sing a song you didn't know you had the words for. the state of being without; the feeling of wind in your hair and the sting of tears you didn't know you'd want to shed. the confusion, the utter confusion. 

2\. the colour of the river where you stand, grey-green-blue-gold and the setting sun does not warm you as it once would; you feel the urgent need to rip your ribcage open and stop feeling, tear your undying heart out and stain the river red with your sorrow and your grief, but the blood on your hands is not your own and as you wash it away the river runs clean and you cannot remember if this is the shade of grey his eyes were.

-

You ask, at first. There's not much time and you know Aragorn grieves, but you can't help yourself. Can't seem to find anything to cling to as everything slips away like dust between your fingers. For a loss to be felt there has to be something to lose, you know this, there was nothing, nothing- But oh! It does not matter a single thing.

_Where is he now? Where did he go?_

_My friend, will he ever return?_

You must seem a child, a naive child asking for something that cannot be given. 

 

Once Mithrandir returns, robed in white and glory, there is a pull at your heart that you cannot quite ignore. 

_Where is he now? Will I see him again, too?_

The pity in the wise one's eyes is too much to bear. You look away _._

Oh fool! You are a prince of the Eldar, the firstborn, most beloved of children, and your heart is too wary to give to a man like him! He loved his City and he loved his people, but you were never beheld with such fondness. The grey in his gaze was not for you.

You may conjure him in dreams, in waking first but it makes you want to scream for pain and so you stop; but he comes at night, to you, you alone he will speak with, will he touch. He smiles, and his fair face is glad, and he bids you sing to him, and even in reverie you know you are crying.

Where now is he? Will he return? _He tarries, and_ _I grieve_.


End file.
